What I Know It started on my birthday. I got home after celebrating a day for myself. I had everything anyone could ask for; friends, family, a home, and talent. Yet that day as I got home I laid on the floor listening to the mixtape my friend had made me, I felt sad. I cried. That’s when I knew something wasn’t right. At first I didn’t know, I thought it was normal but then it happened over and over again. I was happy, but being happy made me sad. A couple months later my mom realized something was wrong so she took me to the doctors. They gave me the copied out paper I now get at every doctor’s appointment even when I’m not going for my mental health . The piece of paper asks what symptoms you have on this sheet. According to those symptoms they tell you what you have. After turning in the paper they go over it and ask you why you feel this way. They ask me if someone said something to me or a tragic event happened and if it did how harsh of an impact did it have on me. See for me, I was perfect, my life was perfect. I had everything. All those questions I said “No, nothing has happened.” and they moved on to another question. “Does anyone in your family have a history with depression?” that was it. My grandma has depression. That’s how it is for me.
I know what it’s like to have depression and anxiety because of genetics. I know that it is triggered by stress. I have gone through with my life knowing that I don’t know what it’s like to be happy without this guilt feeling of sadness weighing me down. I know what it’s like to lose friends because I was “too depressed”. For people to look at the scars on my arms and think something must be really bothering her when it is really nothing but the disease itself. I know what it’s like to stay up til two in the morning crying because school is just too stressful. I’ve been in at the point where my best friend left class and had to pull me up from the bathroom floor because I had a mental breakdown in class. Because one assignment was just a little too much. I know that the kindest and the brightest smiles are the ones that are the most alone. I know what it’s like to holding back tears all day until you can’t hold it back any longer. To where the pain in your head takes over your whole body. It’s where you hold your stomach and tighten every muscle for the fear that someone might hear you cry. It’s the fear that someone will hear and not understand a single reason for your sadness. That fear that they’ll sit there trying to understand what’s wrong when you can’t even understand it for yourself. It’s the fear that they will leave you to be alone in your own sadness.
I know what it’s like to wake up in the morning and not have any motivation to even be alive. To feel like there is no future for yourself and that nobody will accept you for what you are. To have that fear and sadness that if you were at one point gone, nobody would notice. I know what it is like to look into the mirror and fall in love with myself but still not know if anyone cares that you are here. I know that everyday I deal with this and it effects me from meeting new people. Most Importantly I know what it’s like to wake up and see that I’ve been brought here for a purpose and I will go through with my life to find that purpose. So I run to the things they say could restore me, restore life the way it should be.
It started on my birthday. I got home after celebrating a day for myself. I had everything anyone could ask for; friends, family, a home, and talent. Yet that day as I got home I laid on the floor listening to the mixtape my friend had made me, I felt sad. I cried. That’s when I knew something wasn’t right. At first I didn’t know, I thought it was normal but then it happened over and over again. I was happy, but being happy made me sad.
A couple months later my mom realized something was wrong so she took me to the doctors. They gave me the copied out paper I now get at every doctor’s appointment even when I’m not going for my mental health . The piece of paper asks what symptoms you have on this sheet. According to those symptoms they tell you what you have. After turning in the paper they go over it and ask you why you feel this way. They ask me if someone said something to me or a tragic event happened and if it did how harsh of an impact did it have on me. See for me, I was perfect, my life was perfect. I had everything. All those questions I said “No, nothing has happened.” and they moved on to another question. “Does anyone in your family have a history with depression?” that was it. My grandma has depression. That’s how it is for me.
I know what it’s like to have depression and anxiety because of genetics. I know that it is triggered by stress. I have gone through with my life knowing that I don’t know what it’s like to be happy without this guilt feeling of sadness weighing me down. I know what it’s like to lose friends because I was “too depressed”. For people to look at the scars on my arms and think something must be really bothering her when it is really nothing but the disease itself. I know what it’s like to stay up til two in the morning crying because school is just too stressful. I’ve been in at the point where my best friend left class and had to pull me up from the bathroom floor because I had a mental breakdown in class. Because one assignment was just a little too much. I know that the kindest and the brightest smiles are the ones that are the most alone. I know what it’s like to holding back tears all day until you can’t hold it back any longer. To where the pain in your head takes over your whole body. It’s where you hold your stomach and tighten every muscle for the fear that someone might hear you cry. It’s the fear that someone will hear and not understand a single reason for your sadness. That fear that they’ll sit there trying to understand what’s wrong when you can’t even understand it for yourself. It’s the fear that they will leave you to be alone in your own sadness.
I know what it’s like to wake up in the morning and not have any motivation to even be alive. To feel like there is no future for yourself and that nobody will accept you for what you are. To have that fear and sadness that if you were at one point gone, nobody would notice. I know what it is like to look into the mirror and fall in love with myself but still not know if anyone cares that you are here. I know that everyday I deal with this and it effects me from meeting new people. Most Importantly I know what it’s like to wake up and see that I’ve been brought here for a purpose and I will go through with my life to find that purpose. So I run to the things they say could restore me, restore life the way it should be.